Think of Me
by carbuckettycue
Summary: After the disappearance of Sillabub, everything went downhill for Jemima. Now, as the glory of the ball fades away leaving only a gnawing pain, what will she do? Where can she go? And will anyone come after her?
1. The Only One Who Cares Is No One

A/N: This is a sad, no one cares kind of story, that came from listening to Losing Grip by Avril Lavigne one too many times in a row while thinking about Cats. I hope you enjoy, but if you don't, sorry, I didn't take too long writing this. It kind of all came at once.

disclaimer: First of all, I don't own Cats, or any of the material connected to that. Second of all, I don't own Losing Grip by Avril Lavigne. Yeah, only this sad idea belongs to me, kind of pathetic, really.

* * *

**Think of Me **

Part One: The Only One Who Cares is No One

_carbuckettycue_

* * *

Are you aware of what

you make me feel, baby

Right now I feel invisible to you

Like I'm not real

didn't you feel me lock

my arms around you

Why'd you turn away

Here's what I have to say

Victoria, Queen of Ice, princess of snow. She was aloof and silent, like some kind of center piece. Worse yet, she was the best dancer in the whole junkyard. But another kitten felt for her.

She knew what the white cat was going through, but no one even knew it. She went through it herself. No one tried to act like they were her friends anymore. Not even Pounci came and played with her, he was too busy flirting with Bombalurina. Just because she could sing didn't mean everyone liked her.

At her first Jellicle Ball she had put her best foot forward, and had helped Grizabella, and sang a few solos. But that only made some of the kittens jealous, especially Etcetera, who saw her as competition for Tugger.

Really, now she was over the Tugger thing, it had been a first time experience, and she had decided that she didn't like Tugger. Poor thing, if Etcetera knew that, she'd think she was deprived or something!

Now she felt more rejected and alone then the Queen of Ice, who at least had people come and dance with her. She was like Grizabella, only not so undesirable in the eyes of the Jellicles.

I was left to cry there

waiting outside there

grinning with a lost stare

that's when I decided...

Why should I care

cause you weren't there

when I was scared

I was so alone

you need to listen

I'm starting to trip

I'm losing my grip

and I'm in this thing alone

It was time to leave, time to find another place to go. The tortoiseshell kitten rose slowly, tears in her eyes. She'd thought she'd had a home. Now it was time to leave again.

Would she find her sister, the one she'd lost so long ago? Not likely. Would she find friends who treated her better then the Jellicles? Not likely. But a broken heart longs for healing, and hers felt that healing would never come if she stayed here.

For a while, he'd seemed different, but not for long. They'd gone out for two, three days? And then he'd run off to go flirt with a prettier, older, more dangerous queen. Someone more interesting then her. She'd thought he'd actually cared, unlike most, but now she knew she'd been wrong.

It still hurt to leave him. Should she wait, and give them a chance?

Am I just some chick

You placed beside you

to take somebody's place

when you turn around

can you recognize my face

you used to love me

you used to hug me

but that wasn't the case

Everything wasn't okay...

No, she decided, staying wasn't an option. No one would ever accept her, they hadn't accepted Silly.

Silly. Even the mention of her sister hurt. Maybe if she thought about her formally as Ms. Sillabub, it wouldn't hurt as much. But that seemed silly. She waited for the tears to come, but they didn't. They wouldn't come anymore.

'A tortoiseshell kitten with an extraordinary voice really doesn't matter to anyone,' she thought. 'I'm all alone, no home to call my own.'

She could've had a home, if she'd played their games right. But when Pounci had dumped her, she'd just ran off into seclusion, not caring what the world thought of her. Okay, when she'd figured out he'd dumped her. He couldn't tell her. He still hadn't told her. They were best friends, and he couldn't tell her?!

He'd gone off and flirted with just about everyone else, and all that time she'd stood around smiling and trying to make friends with the others, even the Queen of Ice.

No, they didn't care about her. And with that she turned and began to walk away from them, even as they gathered for a game of tag.

I was left to cry there

waiting outside there

grinning with a lost stare

that's when I decide...

Victoria pointed at her, seeing her leaving, "Hey, I wonder where Jemima's going?"

No one paid her heed, until she yelled, "Hey, Jemima where you going?"

Jemima turned back slowly and looked at her. All she could think of to say was, "Away."

All the kittens sat up, including Pouncival. "Why?" They cried.

A thousand things flooded Jemi's head, a thousand feelings, a million pains. What could she possibly say to make them understand? They'd only feel sorry for her.

Why should I care

cause you weren't there

when I was scared

I was so alone

you need to listen

I'm starting to trip

I'm losing my grip

and I'm in this thing alone

Old Deuteronomy looked up from his seat on the tire. "Yes, Jemima, dear, tell us." He spoke softly and kindly, but Jemima felt that she couldn't refuse him. But she couldn't say, either.

"I have to find Silly..." She mumbled, fumbling for an excuse.

"We can help!" Tumble grinned up at her, not realizing it was only an excuse. She knew she'd never find Silly.

"I don't think that's the problem," murmured Victoria.

Everyone ignored her. "Of course it is!! She misses her sister! Perfectly understandable!" The way they brushed Viccy off, and acted like Jemi was stupid and didn't know Silly wasn't coming back hurt.

"Nobody cares about me!" Jemi yelled, and burst into tears. Then she ran out of the junkyard, sobbing hysterically. And no one could understand.

Crying out loud

I'm crying out loud

crying out loud

I'm crying out loud

Open your eyes

Open up wide

Jemi continued to run. 'I'm on my own, now. They'll remember me as being selfish, probably. They were all so worried about me, well, we'll just see. I don't need them.'

She paused and brushed the tears from her eyes and wiped them off her face. She knew where she'd go now. Even if they were enemies of the Jellicles, they might care about her. It was certain that the Jellicles didn't. She even felt sorry for Victoria, stuck there, and for Grizabella, desperately wanting to be accepted by such, such snobs!

She turned into the dark alley, and walked into the abandoned warehouse.

"Don't worry, Jemima," Macavity's deep sinister voice said, "We care about you."

'This it,' she thought, 'I'm leaving the Jellicles for good now.'

Why should I care

cause you weren't there

when I was scared

I was so alone

you need to listen

I'm starting to trip

I'm losing my grip

and I'm in this thing alone


	2. Sorta Thought the World was

A/N: Okay, so this is starting to look rather dark. I need to find a happy song. Unfortunately, I kind of like sad/angry/dark songs, so this could get hairy. Yes, another one of this things has emerged!

disclaimer: I do not own Cats, no matter how much I kick and scream and cry, and I don't own Too Much To Ask by Avril Lavigne, I am only using it for this insane fanfiction, which I really wish that I owned something in besides the stupid plot line!

* * *

**Think Of Me**

Part 2: Sorta Thought the World was Different Then Where I Was Before

_carbuckettycue_

* * *

It's the first time I've ever felt this lonely

Wish someone would cure this pain

It's funny when you think it's gonna work out

Till you chose weed over me your so lame!

It had taken so much for her to accostum herself to this place, to it's ways. It was so different from the junkyard. But it was the only place that was still open to her. That was only because Macavity kind of ignored her, or else he'd see the way she hated him.

Okay, she loved him.

But she hated him.

He was so stupid! There was absolutely no excuse for a fiend in feline shape called Macavity. Even he was the biggest, baddest criminal around. And hot too.

He'd even spoken to her, once or twice. He'd promised to talk more later, but it just never happened. He was the Napolean of Crime, why would he keep his promises to a little kitten like her?

Because she loved him she'd though he would.

I thought you were cool until the point

Up until the point you didn't call me when you said you would

Finally figured out your all the same

Always coming up with some kind of story

"Ahh," Macavity spoke, startling her out of her silent reverie. "Jemima, how nice to see you." And that was all he said.

"So, hows it going being a monster of depravity?" She teased, he ignored her and headed up to his warehouse.

"Later maybe?" She called hopefully.

No response.

All right, so he was a total jerk. Jemima, the wandering kitten, loved him anyway, but he was pushing it. Pushing it just a little too hard.

Macavity was definately taking his criminal life too seriously. That was one major problem.

Everytime I try to make you smile

Your always feeling sorry for yourself

Everytime I try to make you laugh

You can't you're too tough

You think you're loveless

Is it too much that I'm askin' for?

Okay, it was definitely time to take some drastic measures. Otherwise, it'd end up like with the Jellicles. They all cared at first, but that just died. It wouldn't happen again. Again, that is, if the Jellicles had ever really cared.

She got up and headed for the door.

Two of Macavity's hench rats stopped her.

"What do you think you're doing missy?"

"Leaving." She told them, trying to keep her tone aloof and commanding.

"No you're not pretty." The other one growled, then laughed.

"Oh, yeah?" She asked. "I think I am. Bosses orders."

The rats drew back as if she'd caught fire. "Oh! Of course. You're free to go on your way missy!" They hurried away from the door.

And she left, but she didn't go far. Just outside and around the corner to the trusty old garbage can where she used to live. And there she waited, for someone who wasn't coming.

As Jemima waited, she thought about everything.

And as she thought, she came to realize that Macavity only saw what he chose to see, not her. He saw a world of people who hated him, and that was the way he wanted it to be, he didn't want someone to love him.

Especially not her, the little runaway Jellicle.

As she waited, it also became evident that he wasn't coming.

Thought you'd come around when I ignored you

sorta thought you'd have the decency

But babe I guess you didn't take that warning

Cause I'm not about to look at your face again

Can't you see that you lie to yourself

You can't see the world through a mirror

It won't be to late before the smoke clears

Cause I am still here

And she waited, even though there was no reason to. No one cared that she stayed, they cared even less then the Jellicles!

It was sort of like jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Everytime I try to make you smile

Your always feeling sorry for yourself

Everytime I try to make you laugh

You can't you're too tough

You think you're loveless

Is it too much that I'm askin' for?

It was night and it was raining when they came. A mob of cats brandishing toasting forks, carving knives, and lit candles. They marched unheedingly past Jemima's cubby hole, and right into the warehouse.

The little kitten couldn't tell what happened, except that soon it became warm, even though the night was bitter cold.

They were burning the warehouse.

And, she supposed, that was the end of another branch in a mixed up life.

Can't find where I am

Lying here alone in fear

Afraid of the dark

Noone to claim alone again

Jemima huddled up in a furry ball, not because it was cold, but because she didn't know where she'd go now. And what had happened in there? Was Macavity dead?

If he was then the Jellicles were safe but she'd miss him anyway.

Everytime I try to make you smile

Your always feeling sorry for yourself

Everytime I try to make you laugh

You can't you're too tough

You think your loveless

It was too much that I'm askin' for


	3. The Only One to Blame Is Inside Me

A/N: This chapter contains a warning: in the following I am very mean to one of my favorite characters. Maybe someday I"ll be good to them. You know, I really meant to work on one of my other fics today, but this just screamed "WRITE ME!" and I was forced to obey. Please, R&R. And if he's one of your fave characters too, don't kill me, okay? And don't stop reading, either, please.

disclaimer: I could wish I owned Cats, but I don't. Sigh. I also don't own Dashboard Confessional's "So Long, So Long." Too bad.

* * *

**Think Of Me**

Part Three: The Only One to Blame is Inside Me

_carbuckettycue_

* * *

Hand out the window

Floating on air

Just a flip of the wrist and I'm waving you goodbye

Drive past the lifeguard stand

Where I sit around

Waiting for you to remember

As I drive...

The junkyard stood seemingly empty. Only he was crazy enough to sit out in the bitter cold on a night like this. Shivering, he let himself sink into his memories. Brooding was about all he was good for.

Oh, her smile.

He shook his head. "Forget about it," he muttered, trying to convince himself. "There are other girls. You don't even have to leave the junkyard."

For once, his nasty streak had caught up to him. So this was what if felt like to feel awful. He raised his head and gazed up at the moon.

It shone down as round and bright as always, taunting him.

"Shut up," he muttered, and lowered his head.

Still, it mocked him. You thought it would be good to make her squirm. You thought you could have everything, all at once. That's so like you. Etcetera, Electra, Jemima, Bombalurina, everything. Now what do you have? Nothing. You don't even have friends anymore.

It reminded him, how he'd lost Tumble. That was what making-out with your bestfriend's girlfriend, Electra, could do. Now Tumble hated him.

Plato didn't care for him either, said Victoria didn't like him. Coward.

How the girls

Can turn to ghosts before your eyes

And the very dreams that led to them

Are keeping them from dying

And how the grace with which she walked into your life

Will stay with you in your steps

Pace with you a while

For so long, so long

For so long, so long

She'd always been so hard to talk to, Jemima. Like her sister. He blew his hair out of his eyes and frowned darkly.

He could believe that she wanted to find Sillabub. That she actually thought she would find her, that he couldn't believe. "Pouncival! Come in!" He ignored Jennyanydots as she called for him, and ducked off the rocking chair and behind the pile of junk. "Pounce, it's cold! Come in!" He could hear the exhasperation in her voice.

"Not now, mom. I'm thinking." As an afterthough, mostly to please her, he added, "About the ball. Who I'm going to ask. I think I need to give it a lot of thought this year."

"Oh, all right." She sounded pleased. Her baby, thinking. Ho wonderful! He made a face like he was going to yak. "But come in as soon as you get cold."

Pouncival rolled his eyes and flopped on the ground before going back to thinking of the missing queen.

Suddenly he sat bolt upright. "I'll find her! Or I'll find Silly, and she'll help me find her! Why didn't I think of this before?" Then he frowned, and his ears drooped. "Stupid, you'd never be able to find her."

The speaker in this door is blown

So nothing sounds quite right

Taking my time taking this drive

waving this town, goodbye

He could feel the despair welling up again, threatening to engulf him. It would swallow him whole again, he knew. The moon above still shone, but something about it made him recall Jemima's songs about the moon, and he opened his mouth to lift his voice in song.

The words caught in his throat. Damn it.

It was time to do something. Anything. No matter how foolhardy.

He could ask Macavity. Macavity was the Napolean of Crime, after all, he probably knew everything. The idea appealed to Pounce so much that he immediately stood and headed for the open streets outside the junkyard.

And I drive this ocean road

And remember

The small of your back,

nape of your neck

I remember everything

as I drive, I'm waving this town goodbye

Pounce stopped dead in his tracks. The warehouse that had always been Macavity's Lair (at least, as long as he'd been alive) no longer stood on the corner. A few blackened beams contrasted sharply with the lights from the streetlamps, the only pieces standing.

He balked at the idea of a fire claiming Macavity's warehouse. Seriously, wasn't Macavity like a lord of hell or something? Couldn't he control fire?

He started to sniff carefully, and walked around the yard, expecting to smell the familiar but terrifying scent of Macavity. Here and there, he caught whiffs of the hench rats, the hench cats, and even once or twice Mungojerrie. But then, there was a more familiar smell. Not Macavity, but someone much sweeter.

Jemima! She had been here, recently, too. He almost leapt for joy, but then an awful thought gripped him.

What if she'd died in the fire? How could he live? At least when she was just gone, he could imagine that somewhere out there, she was happy.

Determined to find a trace of her, he set his nose to working double time.

How the girls

Can turn to ghosts before your eyes

And the very dreams that led to them

Are keeping them from dying

And how the grace with which she walked into your life

Will stay you in your steps

And pace with you a while

So long, so long

Nothing. He was alone. She was dead. Nothing mattered.

He sat down on the edge of the road and wrapped his tail around his feet. It was time to cry. If he went home, his mother would want him to ask one of the girls to the ball this year. He couldn't do it.

Jemima was dead. Pouncival wished he was, too. "I failed you," he whispered. When Sillabub had left the junkyard, he'd sworn to Jemima that he would always be there for her. But he hadn't been. And now he never would be.

And I will leave under the cover

Of summer's kiss upon the sky

Like the stone face of your lover

Just before she says goodbye

I was certain that the season

Could be held between my arms

But just as summer's hold is fleeting

I was here but now I'm gone (so long, so long)

I'm gone (so long, so long)

Lurching to his feet, Pouncival staggered down the road, completely unaware of his surroundings. He was alone. She was gone. He had to find Jemima–no, she was dead.

His feet stopped automatically when they came up to the edge of the path. Trying to clear his head of the guilt and blame, he shook it vigorously and looked down.

The river swirled tumultously below him. "Jemima." He whispered, but that wouldn't bring her back. He was to blame, he needed to pay for what he'd done.

Without another thought, he closed his eyes, "I'm so sorry, Jemima," and jumped.

I'm gone, I'm gone

I'm gone, I'm gone

I'm gone, I'm gone

I'm gone, I'm gone

I'm gone, I'm gone.


	4. Is There Anything Worth Anything at All?

A/N: To the song "Am I Missing" by Dashboard Confessional. Okay, I'm sick of this all being so depressing. I'm just not a dark kind of person, I can't help it. Besides, how could I leave Pounce in the river like that? Sorry it took me so long to get something going here, but graduation is coming on fast, so I'm really busy...

disclaimer: I do not own Cats. I do not own Cats. I shall make this a mantra, I do not own Cats...

* * *

**Think of Me**

Is There Anything Worth Anything at All?

_carbuckettycue_

* * *

Sharp disaster in a fresh new coma

Was it worth it when it was over?

Proving yourself right, you'd make the biggest noise

She wandered aimlessly along beside the river. Silence hung in the air, tangible, threatening. The silence threatened to take her over. If she didn't open up and sing soon, would there be anything left of her?

One of the seedy cats that frequented this street leered at her, and she hissed. Maybe this was how Grizabella got that way. Maybe this was why she'd connected with the glamour cat during her song so well. Moonlight... she couldn't do it. She just couldn't sing.

Her feet found their way on to the track that led beside the river. This past fortnight, since the fire at Macavity's, she had found herself coming again and again to the same place.

Her path led her to the small and junky, but comfortable, abode of a rather scruffy cat who called himself Cat Morgan. Once, he'd told her, he'd been a pirate. And after that, he'd lived at the door to Faber and Faber. She didn't know what to believe, but he was kind to her.

He always complained (good naturedly) about his mate, Delia, though. Said she was always picking up strays. Apparently, (or so he said) she would've taken in Growltiger himself if he'd been in a bad way. Jemima had had to work hard to convince the matronly cat that she wasn't in a bad way.

No, thank you. Only help she needed was this: If you happen to see Sillabub, please tell her Jemima's looking for her.

She rang the small bell, and tried not to worry that they wouldn't be here. She'd lost the Jellicles, she'd lost Macavity, she didn't want to lose seedy old Cat Morgan. Her tail twitched in her agitation as she waited. Maybe noone was in. She glanced at the river, swollen from the rains last night.

Sometimes she thought it called to her, like the moon used to. Maybe the moon would still call to her, if she could ever see it down here. Between the city smog and the fog off the river, the moon was almost never visible. The only light down here at night was from the street lamps or off the barges.

Well, I'd lock my hands behind my head

I'd cover my heart and hit the deck

I'd brace myself for the impact if I were you

The small door opened cautiously. Behind it, Delia peered out. When her eyes fell on Jemima, she let out a cry of delight and rushed out to pull her into a hug. "Come in darling, come in! Cat Morgan's out right now, but he'll be in soon. Would you like some tea?"

"Thank you," Jemima stepped inside with her, "it's been a long day."

"Any luck finding your sister?"

"Not as of yet." Jemima sighed. "Ah, well. If I'm meant to find her..."

"You'll find her. Everlasting Cat willing." Delia was a very pious sort. It reminded Jemima of the days when she'd believed in anything. Oh, how naive she'd been.

Would any of the Jellicles even recognize her if they saw her now?

(It's a long wait)

Is there anything?

(For an answer)

Worth looking for?

(Is there any news?)

Worth loving for?

(Is there any word?)

Worth lying for?

(Was there trama?)

Is there anything?

(Or a struggle?)

Worth waiting for?

(Am I missing?)

Worth living for?

(Or was the body found?)

Worth dying for?

"Picked up any new strays lately?" she asked, in an attempt to turn Delia away from worrying about her. "It's been a while since I've been by."

"Oh, yes. But none that needed to stay long." She bustled over to the roaring fire and pulled off the tea kettle. "This has been on long enough. I'm expecting Morgan any minute." She frowned as she poured the tea into the pot on the table. "In fact, he's a little late. If you hadn't rung the bell, I'd of thought it was you."

They settled down around the table, Jemima's thoughts not on the tea. Thoughts of the past consumed her–Macavity, Sillabub, the Jellicles, Pouncival... The little twerp. She forced herself to focus on Delia's chatter and the smooth taste of the tea.

She would forget about that scrap of a tom, and Macavity, too. She willed it to be so.

"Have you made any friends out there?" Delia asked, "a nice girl like you? Found any likely toms?"

And she broke and let out a wail. "Oh, I'm so alone. I just don't know what to do!" In her distress, she nearly tipped over the tea cup.

Delia reached over and patted her on the back. "There, there dear. I've told you a million times you can stay here. You aren't alone, there's always Morgan and me."

"I bet my family thinks I'm dead." Jemima whispered. Maybe that wasn't a bad thing.

(It's a long wait)

Is there anything?

(For an answer)

Worth looking for?

(Is there any news?)

Worth loving for?

(Is there any word?)

Worth lying for?

(Was there trama?)

Is there anything?

(Or a struggle?)

Worth waiting for?

(Am I missing?)

Worth living for?

(Or was the body found?)

Worth dying for?

Cat Morgan pushed open the door, hollering for his mate. "Delia, some help here! I've found this one washed up on the river bank!" Delia rose hurriedly, and Jemima watched curiously as she helped Morgan bring in a bedraggled, mud covered tom. He was coughing weakly, and his eyes seemed unfocused.

Still, something about him seemed familiar.

For a moment, his blue eyes seemed to clear and focus on her. His gaze seemed to pierce her skull, see into her soul, but then he dropped his head.

"Will he be alright?" She asked, rising to her feet. "Can I help?"

He raised his head again, and seemed to try and look at her. He was small, almost kittenish in size. He must be a youngster.

"He must have slipped off the bridge, or one of the docks..." Delia murmered, as she helped Cat Morgan carry him over the the cushions in the corner. "I'm afraid he's going to get everything dirty." They laid him down. "Jemima, be a dear and grab some wet rags for me, please?"

Jemima did as she was told, her lonliness forgotten for the moment. She handed the damp rag to Delia and watched as she carefully washed some of the mud off his face. "We'll be lucky if he's not sick," she said. The scrubbing revealed a bit of white fur hear, a bit of brown there.

Still, he seemed familiar.

I'm home

I'm home

I'm home

I'm home

"Pouncival?" She exclaimed. It couldn't possibly be. He would be in the junkyard getting ready for the Ball. It was that time of year. He wouldn't have time to go out for a walk by the river.

Besides, the Jellicles were always wary of the river.

He made a soft noise, but didn't acknowledge her presence again. "Will he be all right?" She asked Delia again.

Even if he wasn't Pouncival–even if he was–Jemima hoped he would be all right.

Sharp disaster in a fresh new coma

Was it worth it when it was over?

Proving yourself right, you'd make the biggest noise

Pouncival woke in a warm pile of blankets and cushions, his head muzzy from the fever. He blinked slowly, focusing his eyes on the cats seated at the table in the center of the room. Something about them seemed familiar. "Where am I?" He croaked.

"In Cat Morgan's house." A queen cat appeared at his side. She didn't seem as familiar as the other two. "You've been very sick. Morgan found you in the river a week ago."

It all rushed back to him. Jemima, gone. The river calling to him, more enticing than the moon. How he had jumped. For a moment, he wished he was dead.

Then he looked up again. The tortiseshell queen at the table was looking at him, her blue eyes curious. "Jemima?" His voice barely came out.

"Pouncival?" She looked incredulous. "What are you doing here?"

He tried to clear his throat. "Have some water," Delia urged him. Reluctantly, he allowed her to hold he cup for him and tried to drink. In the end, he coughed up more of the water than he drank, and he wasn't sure it was worth the effort.

"I thought you were dead!" Pouncival stared at her helplessly. "I..."

She frowned at him.

"...I was out looking for you..." he finished feebly, looking away.

Well, I'd lock my hands behind my head

I'd cover my heart and hit the deck

I'd brace myself for the impact if I were you

Eventually, he dared to look up again. "You?" She was incredulous. "You came looking for me? Since when do you care?"

His throat caught. Why did she have to be like that? Wait, he knew. Like so many other things, that was his own fault. "Listen." He pleaded, "I'm sorry. I was wrong. Can you ever... forgive me? Please Jemima?"

This time it was her who looked away. "I don't know Pounce. Maybe someday." Why couldn't she bring herself to scream at him, tell him how much she hated him?

His ears perked up hopefully, and his eyes almost sparkled like he was a care-free kitten again. "Maybe, maybe someday even, we could be friends again?"

Hating to crush the light in his eyes, and hating herself for not being able to express her anger at him, she settled on saying, "Maybe friends some day. But that's all, just friends."

"You know each other?" Morgan looked from the scruffy looking brown tabby to his tortoiseshell friend, and than back again. "What a coincidence." His gaze turned piercing, penetrating Pouncival's skull. "What were you doing in the river, kiddo?"

(It's a long wait)

Is there anything?

(For an answer)

Worth looking for?

(Is there any news?)

Worth loving for?

(Is there any word?)

Worth lying for?

(Was there trama?)

Is there anything?

(Or a struggle?)

Worth waiting for?

(Am I missing?)

Worth living for?

(Or was the body found?)

Worth dying for?

Pouncival struggled with the question. How could he ever admit what had happened? He couldn't. "I was crossing the bridge," he hedged, "and I slipped. I was being careless, I was kind of upset, I guess."

Jemima frowned deeply, but didn't look at him. He was lying, she could tell by that particular hitch in his voice. Not a lot, but holding something back. Somehow she knew it was important. At least it told her something, for all his words, he hadn't changed. Not really. "Sure Pounce," she drawled, "and that was exact-tactly how it went."

His mouth went dry. "Yeah, Jemima. Exact-tactly." He spit the words out, then stopped to catch his breath. He was so tired. So tired...

"You should rest. Don't fret, we'll sort everything out eventually. Sleep now." She patted his forehead and before he could protest, he had closed his eyes and drifted into the darkness of sleep. Once she was certain of his slumber, Delia fell to scolding Jemima. "All right dear, so you two have some sort of past. I dont' expect you to get over it, though I hope together you'll be able to work it out–when he's well. Until then, please, would you be the soul of courtesy? I don't think he shall get well if you press him."

Jemima refrained from saying what she wanted to, that Pouncival was only likely to tell her the truth and find remorse if she pressured him while he was ill. When he was well, Pouncival was, well, irrepressable. Instead of saying this, however, she simply promised, "I'll try Delia, really I will. But he has to stop telling stories some day."

(It's a long wait)

Is there anything?

(For an answer)

Worth looking for?

(Is there any news?)

Worth loving for?

(Is there any word?)

Worth lying for?

(Was there trama?)

Is there anything?

(Or a struggle?)

Worth waiting for?

(Am I missing?)

Worth living for?

(Or was the body found?)

Worth dying for?

When Pouncival awoke, Jemima was no longer there. His breath caught in his throat, had she left him again? He couldn't bear to be alone... The motherly cat, Delia, pulled him out of his thoughts. "Would you like a wash, sweetie? You've got a lot of mud on you. I've got some water drawn up, go on ahead, and wash off."

He was only to happy to oblige, hauling himself to his feet and limping over to the basin. A strange creature stared back at him, not unlike Grizabella. Dirty, tattered. Hurriedly, he reached in and splashed his face with the water, banishing the image with the ripples.

It really was a wonder, Delia observed a few minutes later, how well he cleaned up. With the grime gone, he looked like a nice young tom. His brown and white fur slicked to him from the water, and his blue eyes still contrasted sharply against his brown fur.

"Where's..."

"Jemima? She went out to with Morgan for supplies. Food stuffs and the like. Don't worry, she'll be back." Delia couldn't help but smile, and Pounce couldn't help but relax at her reassurances.

I'm home

I'm home

I'm home

I'm home

I'm home

Jemima returned with Cat Morgan late in the evening, carrying a bag stuffed chock full of fish. "That was close," she complained, "I almost got seen by those maurding tabbies."

"Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer?" She stiffened at the sound of Pouncival's voice.

"Yes. I wouldn't want them to try and follow me here. I don't want to be found. I'm sorry if you wanted to see them." She didn't sound particularly sorry.

"I'm sorry you don't wanna see any of us anymore," was all Pounce could think of to say.

"Yeah, well." She dropped the bag of fish on the table. "I hope you still like fish, boyo."

Pounce made a face. "Not after my plunge in the river. It's turned me off of anything that swims." He watched her hopefully, waiting for her to say something more to him. She didn't give him the satisfaction, though, and turned to Delia to speak about how the fish should be fixed. She didn't speak to him again that night.

(It's a long wait)

Is there anything?

(For an answer)

Worth looking for?

(Is there any news?)

Worth loving for?

(Is there any word?)

Worth lying for?

(Was there trama?)

Is there anything?

(Or a struggle?)

Worth waiting for?

(Am I missing?)

Worth living for?

(Or was the body found?)

Worth dying for?

Pouncival's hair stuck out in odd angles and he frowned at his thin, drawn reflection in the mirror. "What has happened to me?" With a sigh, he turned away. "It's no wonder Jemima ignores me." Delia, Cat Morgan, and Jemima had all gone out into the sunshine today, leaving him alone. The invalid.

Part of him contemplated going and jumping back in the river, just to get away from Jemima's scorn. Sure, she had every right to hate him. That didn't mean he had to like it.

Maybe if he groveled... no, that would just piss her off. Little wench... Mentally, he smacked himself. Who was he to call her names? Last time she'd seen him, he'd been busy playing the whore. It was no wonder she shunned him. She'd have to be crazy to come running back to him.

Still, that didn't mean he couldn't wish...

Damn it, this wasn't getting him anywhere. Maybe he could find her flowers. Maybe... No, he was still to week. He blew his hair up out of his face, and thought hard.

Maybe he could write her a song.

Wait, that would probably be too Jellicle for her.

Oh, heck with it. He'd try anything now.

(It's a long wait)

Is there anything?

(For an answer)

Worth looking for?

(Is there any news?)

Worth loving for?

(Is there any word?)

Worth lying for?

(Was there trama?)

Is there anything?

(Or a struggle?)

Worth waiting for?

(Am I missing?)

Worth living for?

(Or was the body found?)

Worth dying for?

Jemima truged along behind Morgan and Delia, Delia's lecture still wringing in her ears. "The boy is looking for forgiveness. He won't get well if you don't show him some. He'll just keep getting sicker. You don't want his life on your hands, do you?"

Still, she wasn't sure she could forgive him. Oh, but his eyes, looking at her, pleading for something, anything.

"What does he want from me?" She whispered, but she already knew the answer. He wanted a friend, someone who could say to him, 'Pounce, I know you've messed up. You and me, though, we're past that. It's time to move on, be someone else. Someone new, someone good.'

He ought to go home to the Junkyard, but she got the feeling he didn't want to. For that matter, neither did she. In fact, even if he stayed, she thought she would have to stay with Delia and Morgan. It was long past time to settle down again. Wandering the streets would kill her if she kept at it, and Cat Morgan and his mate were good, kind cats.

Raising her head, she trotted to catch up to them, vowing to be kinder to Pouncival when they returned.

I'm home

I'm home

I'm home

I'm home


	5. Really Wanna Tell You

A/N: To the song "Hard to Say I'm Sorry / Get Away" by Chicago. Yeah, I'm going oldies. I love Chicago. Anyway... sorry this took so long. I have no excuse, other than that I am irresponsible and never write. Please, R&R. I need motivation, since I'm bad at motivating myself.

disclaimer: AND...I still don't own Cats. Pooh.

* * *

**Think of Me **

Really Wanna Tell You

_carbuckettycue_

* * *

"Everybody needs a little time away."

I heard her say,

"From each other."

"Even lovers need a holiday.

Far away, from each other"

Pouncival frowned at the rainy sky outside. Cat Morgan, Delia, and the oh-so-beautiful-but-hates-me Jemima had been gone for hours. Jemima would never forgive him. "I'd do anything for her forgiveness..." he whispered.

Then it came to him. What was the one thing that Jemima wanted most? To find Sillabub, to see if she was well. That would mean more than any song–even the one he was already writing for her. He could find Silly, and then give Jemima the song! It would be perfect.

Now, if only he could think of how he would find her... He had it! He would ask Tumble, but wait, Tumble was mad at him. He would beg Tumble's forgiveness, and ask him to help him. Tumble was closely tied to his father, the Bosun Tumblebrutus, who was part of Growltiger's crew. "My original plan was to find Macavity," he whispered, "why not Growltiger?"

He pushed himself to his feet, and swayed weakly. A voice in the back of his mind taunted him, 'You're too weak, you'll never make it.' Ignoring the voice, he staggered over to the table to leave a small note. Slowly, deliberately, he crafted them. This time, he wasn't going to leave anything out.

He closed his eyes and debated with himself about leaving that second note. Maybe it would be better just to say nothing at all. But he was here because he'd known he was wrong, so he'd best fess up to it. No one likes a liar, he knew that now.

Hold me now

It's hard for me to say I'm sorry

I just want you to stay

After all that we've been through

I will make it up to you

I promise to

And after all that's been said and done

You're just the part of me I can't let go

Cat Morgan stepped into the den, shaking his paws to dry them. "Pounce, boyo, we're back!" He looked around at the silent room. "Sleeping maybe?" He asked his mate, and went to light a candle while the two queens came in, shaking their own paws.

The light revealed an empty bed, and two small notes on the table. One addressed to each of them. Morgan opened his and Delia's and read it aloud.

"Cat Morgan and Delia: Thank you so much for all the kindness, and I hope to be able to repay you someday. For now, there's something I've got to do. Love, Pouncival."

He handed Jemima's to hers, and she opened it hurriedly. As she read her eyes widened in shock.

"Jemima: I am truly sorry, I don't think you can imagine how much. I know you despise me for all the things I've done, but I'm going to try and make things better. But before I go, I have to tell you something. When Morgan found me in the river, you asked how I got there. I told you that I slipped, and fell in because I wasn't paying attention and was upset. It's time I told you the truth. I didn't slip, I jumped. I'd been to Macavity's warehouse, hoping he could help me find you, and it was burned to the ground. I found your scent there, and I thought you had died in the fire. I guess I blamed myself for pushing you so hard that you left the junkyard. And it broke my heart realizing that I would never, ever, see you smile again. Now you know. I don't expect my confession will change anything, and I don't think I could say it to your face, so I'm going to go do something that will make a difference. If I ever return, please, think better of me. With all my heart, Pouncival."

"Where could he have gone?" She cried, clutching the letter to her chest. Please, Everlasting Cat, she thought, don't say he's gone after Silly. "Oh, I don't think he'll come back..."

"Did he say he would?" Delia asked gently.

"He said he had to make things right. He said, if I ever return, like he didn't expect to." Jemima whispered. "God, I've been so blind. I think he really has changed. I didn't think it was possible."

Couldn't stand to be kept away

Just for the day

From your body

Wouldn't wanna be swept away

Far away, from the one that I love

"Please Tumble! You've got to help me!"

"Why should I, after everything you've done to me?" Tumble frowned at him, standing between Pounce and Electra.

"Because I love her Tumble! I've finally figured it out. I can't live if she hates me. Please, Tumble." Tumble started to turn away from Pouncival. "You know what it's like to be in love, Tumble! Please! I'll die!"

Electra gave Tumble a look that spoke volumes. He turned back to Pounce. "All right," he growled, "but it's for Jemima and Electra, not you."

"And if you break her heart again," Electra hissed, "You'll wish you were dead. Got it?" She turned and crawled back into the den that she shared with Tumble, leaving the two toms alone with each other.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Tumble spoke after a moment. "Let's go find my da, and see if he can help us."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

"Don't grovel. I'm doing it for Electra, remember?" He hopped down off the pile of junk, and started to head through the main junkyard.

"Could we not go that way?" Pounce asked, "I don't wanna talk to my mom right now."

Tumble sighed, "Oh, all right. We'll go the long way around. Are you really serious about Jemima now? You can tell me."

"I thought we weren't friends." Pounce couldn't help but point out.

"Yeah, but if you settled down with Jem, I might be able to forgive you for trying to steal Electra, just 'cause I'd know you wouldn't do it again."

Pounce followed him silently for a long bit. "Yes, I think I'm really serious. I mean, well..." He hung his head. "When I thought she was dead, I... I threw myself in the river. I wanted to die."

Tumble glanced at him as if reassessing his old friend. "Really? You do have it bad..."

Hold me now

It's hard for me to say I'm sorry

I just want you to know

"He'll come back," Delia told Jemima, placing a comforting paw on Jemima's shoulder. "Won't he Morgan?"

Cat Morgan coughed as he choked on his tea. "Oh yeah. Everlasting Cat willing that nothing bad happens to him. If nothing happens to him, he'll come back to you. I saw it in his eyes. He'd do anything to be with you."

"That's what frightens me the most," Jemima whispered, glancing down at her letter.

Hold me now

I really want to tell you I'm sorry

I could never let you go

After all that we've been through

I will make it up to you

I promise to

And after all that's been said and done

You're just the part of me I can't let go

The docks were one of the seediest districts in the city, bested only by Tottenham Court. Pounce's tail thrashed nervously as he looked at all the water. "You so scared of the water?" Tumble teased.

"I did nearly drown in the river, and the seas a lot more treacherous than the river." Pounce pointed out.

"Right, right, I forgot." Tumble stopped and stared up at the barge looming before him. "Da! Da! It's Tumble. I need to talk with you!"

Pouncival winced as Tumblebrutus shouted in his ear. "Thanks," he muttered under his breath, and swayed a bit. He was so tired...

A head appeared over the rail–it was Grimbuskin, the bucko mate. "Aye, the bosun's busy. Git yourself up here and wait for him if et's so important."

"All right," Tumble called back, "is it all right if my friend comes aboard, too?"

Grimbuskin inspected Pounce with a malicious glint in his eyes. "I suppose."

Pounce shook his head to clear the fog from his mind. He was doing it! He was finding Sillabub... For Jemima. For... Jemima...

After all that we've been through

I will make it up to you

I promise to

Pounce awoke in the dark to a gentle rocking. "Jeez, you finally awake?" That was Tumble. "You could'a told me you were sick. Seriously."

"It's nothing I can't handle..." Pounce muttered.

"And that's why you collapsed in front of the barge, aye?" Pounce looked up to see Tumble's burly father looking down at him. "I hear you're looking for a queen named Sillabub, that she's a friend's sister."

Pounce nodded slowly. "Have you heard of her?"

"Once or twice. For a fair trade, I'd be willing to help you find her."

"What sort of a trade?"

"We–that is the crew–need a place to batten down the hatches and lay low for a while, and it can't be on the ship. That includes Captain Growltiger. Know a place?"

"Let me think." Pounce whispered. Would Cat Morgan and Delia take them? Could he even ask them too? But, if it would find Sillabub, they might just be willing. "I have an idea." He said slowly, "Cat Morgan and his mate Delia take in lots of strays. If you came in a few at a time and stayed low in the den, no one would give it a second thought."

"Cat Morgan? The pirate?" Pounce nodded. "All right, then, it's a deal. Morgan'll take us, iffen you'll show us where he is."

"And Sillabub?" Pouncival barely dared to ask.

"She works at one of the local taverns. Sweet on one of the boys there. Calls himself Carbucketty. He's a good hand when we need extra help repairing the barge, I'll put in a word with him.

If he wasn't so tired, Pounce would have leapt in the air for joy. Tumble, his kitten-hood friend, leaned over and whispered in his ear, "The Everlasting Cat must be smiling on you today. That was almost too easy. If it wasn't my da, I wouldn't trust a word of it." Pounce just smiled weakly at him.

"Maybe now she'll forgive me."

You're gonna be the lucky one

When we get there gonna jump in the air

No one will see us 'cause there's nobody there

After all, you know we really don't care

Hold on, I'm gonna take you there


	6. Finding a Happy Ending

A/N: To the song "Daydream Beleiver" by the Monkees. Once again, old music is cool. So this one is finally done. If there's anything that isn't satisfactorily wrapped up, I'm sorry, and you decide. Make it how you like it. IT'S FINALLY DONE!!

disclaimer: And even after a year of college, I have not grown smart enough to figure out a way to own Cats.

* * *

**Think of Me**

Finding a Happy Ending

_carbuckettycue_

* * *

Oh, I could hide 'neath the wings

Of the bluebird as she sings.

The six o'clock alarm would never ring.

But six rings and I rise,

Wipe the sleep out of my eyes.

My shavin' razor's cold and it stings.

Pouncival frowned seriously at the young tom who stood before him. He had a brown marking across his face that was eerily similar to Pouncival's own marking. If it weren't for the fact that he was more brown than white, Tumble would have thought they were brothers. Well, that and the fact that Pouncival didn't have any brothers.

"So, you want to find Silly? For her sister?" Carbucketty, for that was the tom's name, blinked thoughtfully. "Well, all right. It'd make her happy, I s'pect. She's been down a lot lately, almost like she could feel someone else's pain, dragging her down."

He glanced at the two earnest young toms before him. "I'll talk to her by myself, though. Not sure how she'd take to seeing a couple of Jellicles at the bar." With that he bid them farewell and leapt off the barge onto the docks. "She's at Cat Morgan's? Silly will want to head straight there I think."

Pouncival looked at Tumble, mouth dry. "It's really working. Grimbuskin's already snuck off to Cat Morgan's with his group, and now Carbucketty's gonna get Silly. Do you think... do ya think Jemima will be happy?"

"Course she'll be happy." Tumble blithely reassured him.

"I mean, happy to see me?"

"Oh. Well, that I don't know."

Cheer up, Sleepy Jean.

Oh, what can it mean.

To a daydream believer

And a homecoming queen.

Wearily, Jemima raised her head. Another knock at the door. Already today she had been disappointed, as a strange cat (apparently a friend of Cat Morgan) had arrived with several even stranger cats in tow. She had thought it was Pounce, coming back. Coming back so that she wouldn't have to feel guilty for taking him away from his family on an impossible quest.

When Delia didn't answer the door with a cry of welcome for Pouncival, Jemima allowed her head to droop again. There was a tom at the door, but it wasn't Pounce. His voice was sweeter, not as rough. And yet, she wanted to be able to hear the rough voice again. To tell him, she had finally forgiven him. Well, at least mostly forgiven him. Stuff like Pounce had done, you didn't just forget that overnight.

Heh, if he ever came back she could lord it over him. Use it to get him to do whatever she wanted. If he ever came back.

You once thought of me

As a white knight on a steed.

Now you know how happy I can be.

Oh, and our good times starts and end

Without dollar one to spend.

But how much, baby, do we really need.

Growltiger and Tumblebrutus (the bosun) were the last to leave the barge, creeping along to meet Tumble and Pounce at a corner farther up the river. Growltiger's disguise was so good, that Pouncival didn't even recognize the villain of legend as he approached. In fact, if Tumble hadn't been able to recognize his father's scent, they would have both been very confused. Pouncival led the way up the river to Cat Morgan's house, while Tumble hung back to watch his father in silent awe.

This was it, he was finally going back to face Jemima with something accomplished. When Grimbuskin had taken the other group, Pouncival had guided them to Cat Morgan's, but only as far as the door. He didn't go in—wouldn't go in— and had refused to even be seen by Morgan or Delia. He glanced up at the sky, the moon was nearly full tonight. Soon, it would be time to go to the Jellicle Ball.

Cheer up, Sleepy Jean.

Oh, what can it mean.

To a daydream believer

And a homecoming queen.

Cheer up, Sleepy Jean.

Oh, what can it mean.

To a daydream believer

And a homecoming queen.

A soft feminine voice drew Jemima back to the present. Her head snapped up, and she gasped. "Silly?"

"Oh, Jemima!" Her sister cried, clutching her close. Cat Morgan's friends eyed them strangely, and whispered amongst themselves, but Jemima didn't care. Silly was here! "Oh, you found me!"

"I didn't. Carbucketty told me where you were." The tom, so similar to Pouncival, smiled at Jemima as Sillabub introduced him.

"Yeah, one called Pouncival and his friend Tumblebrutus son of Tumblebrutus sought me out, looking for her." Jemima clung tighter to Silly as if she didn't believe her sister was really there.

"Now he'll come back, right?" Jemima whispered, "And we can all be together. And it will be wonderful. And..." And is if on cue, the bell at the door rang. Delia (still wiping tears from her eyes at the happy reunion) sprang to get it, and immediately welcomed in the last four arrivals.

"Pounce!" Jemima cried, torn between going to him and thanking him and clinging to her sister for dear life.

"Jemima, I..." He looked down at the floor, and so was caught unawares when Tumble pushed him forward to be hugged by Jemima and greeted by Sillabub.

"I forgive you." Jemima told him. "I already had, when you left. I just didn't know it yet."

"Really?" Pounce looked up at her, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "Then I... I don't suppose... suppose you'd consider coming to the Ball with me?"

Cheer up, Sleepy Jean.

Oh, what can it mean.

To a daydream believer

And a homecoming queen.


End file.
